Forever After
by kisa sohma cookie
Summary: Legends never really die. Especially when they have unfinished business. Set in the movie verse. My bored and intrigued attempt at something resembling a creepypasta.


**I've been talking with my friend about creepypasta lately, and we both agreed that Kissing Kate Barlow would make one badass creepypasta. However, there isn't specific section on fanfiction for it. Im going to try and make this oneshot tie into both holes, and still qualify as an adequate creepypasta. It's my first try at both, so…well, if you don't like it don't read it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Holes or creepypasta**

The rain didn't bring the feeling of relief or freedom for her, that it did for the boys. These boys and the other three dingbats who'd made a mess of themselves lookin for her loot these past 100 years. She watched them now like she had right at the start. Not out of fondness or nostalgia, it was two parts boredom, and some sick sense of duty she felt. But not for the reasons you are probably thinkin

The boys cheered and ran, catching every sweet drop in their mouths as they could. She wouldn't rob them of this brief moment of triumph, in real life, they'd seldom ever feel it again. Not when there where things like her still walking around when they shouldn't be.

She chuckled, watching littl'un walker, a little pet name she'd made up for Trout Walkers grandbaby, gape like a fish as the thing her entire family had been searching for was carried away by those two little misfits the boys called 'Caveman' and 'Zero' . Louise Walker lived up to her both her grandparents legacy's. So much promise in the start, but hopeless and hilarious failures in the end.

Shame really, if not for her name and her fate, She probably would have liked her. They both had the same reputation with men. Cruel and cold as ice.

For her, it wasn't so much a saying anymore. Like that last day she had truly been Katherine Barlow.

'_It's so hot, Sam…but I feel so cold..' _

Bells, sand sifting, her own voice cracked like an old wind chime. One of the last memories she had as a human.

Soft brown eyes like the skin of his cheek, Sam had looked at her like he always had. Warm and just a little sad, like he knew what was going to happen, but he was there. He had come for her….or rather…he had come for Katherine.

Not her. She was Kissin' Kate Barlow. Katherine was a sweet and innocent little flower that Sam had fallen in love with. She had died with him like she wanted on the worst night of her life, Kate was the one who'd been dragged back to shore, after she tried to follow him into the depths of the lake.

Kate was the one who was born like the phoenix from the ashes of the school Sam and Katherine had together. Kate was the one who would not sleep hours later when the town had gone quiet, after all the chaos that during they couldn't even hear her screaming when one of the men who 'rescued' her decided to collect his reward for himself.

Kate was the one who made the decision, who pulled that first shot, right through the sheriff's heart. Katherine was too forgiving, too calm and collecting. Kate had all that, but she just didn't give a damn. Too angry to listen to that side of her.

But she was still a lady. She could find beauty in any situation. Tiny red pearls rolled down the sheriffs chest and into his white tunic, blossoming into a rose stretching its way across the fabric. Her lips left an identical two lipped flower on his cheek, her signature.

At one point, the plan had been to avenge Sam and nothing else. To hunt down the monsters that had gunned down an innocent man and pay them the same courtesy, then she'd wander until she dropped dead. Trout had run when he heard her coming, by then it was an addiction. She gathered a posse of people who'd suffered from the same simple minded cruelty. She made a name for herself Miss Katherine never could as a school teacher. She'd be remembered as the stone cold witch of the west with a smile sweet as honey and the disposition of a scorpion. No one, not even her own men dared turn their back on her, because like the scorpion, she'd bite no matter friend or foe. There was not one soul she trusted anymore, so she wouldn't give them an excuse to do the same to her.

She ran as far in every direction imaginable, evading capture until she plum got tired of running. Like the ending of a song, she ended up in the place it all started, the barren remains of the town Green Lake. The bed of the lake as dry as her throat. The sun burned her lily white skin till it blistered, as she rested against Sam's overturned boat, just to feel close to him.

She often talked to him, even before that day, just to feel his name on his lips. Her men used to whisper that she talked in her sleep about him. They were wise enough to never ask. It was during those times, that the shadow of Katherine Barlow returned. Just for a few blessed moments, and her pretty face normally twisted in an angry sneer, or hard and blank as slate stone, would soften.

But just like all those years ago, Trout had to go and dispel the lovely fantasy, the click of his shotgun tearing Sam away from her arms once again.

Kate had whipped around in rage, pointing her gun at him,

'_I been waitin for you trout!_'

But Katherine, who normally went back to being just a memory, made her stop. To this day, she didn't know why. Maybe she was just too tired to let Kate keep going, maybe, like Sam, she knew it was time for it to end.

So Kate, too bored and hot to argue, let her, she tossed her gun to the side, sitting back as walker and his little wife threatened her, as if they came of as anything close to intimidating. Linda walker was twitching worse in fright, and Trout looked half crazed already.

'_I aint gonna kill you, but by the time I'm finished you gonna wish you was dead_.'

He was absurd, she chuckled, hollow and without mirth. Seeing his face falter made the effort of laughing worth it.

"_I been wishin I was dead for a long time…_"

Then the words had flowed out of her mouth like the drops of rain the dried up lake craved so much for. The curse that would be Trout's final humiliation.

'_You, your children and your children's children will dig for the next one hundred years. And you will neeeever find it_.'

Then the two had shouted, her turning her head languidly to the side, when they heard the familiar hiss of the feared yellow spot backed lizards. It had scurried out from under Sam's boat. Trout tried to shoot it, only riling it up more. It glared at him and hissed, frill on its neck fanning out before it scurried back towards the hollow. And Kate new, that was the out she'd been looking for.

She reached over with all the tenderness of a mother with her newborn, holding the squirming lizard around its middle and holding up her wrist.

'_Start digging trout.._'

The lizards fangs sank into her skin like a worm through mud. The venom coursed through her veins like white fire and her body shuddered from the pain. But all she could do was tilt her head back and laugh again, it was over.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Her body had died, which it inevitably would have done that night with or without the lizard venom. But something unexpected happened

Kate woke up, the next morning, sun beating down on her again but as cold as she had felt the day before. A hoard of lizards crawling around her ankles and lap, heads tilting inquisitively and biting her every now and then to taste her blood, but there wasn't any. She was pale, paler than she had ever been, and no matter how long she sat there, the sun never turned it red. Twin puncture holes on the soft skin near her wrist stood out, black and charred looking like a brand mark. She turned her arm over, on the backs of her forearms and running up under her clothes and onto her back, were small mottled yellow spots.

She wasn't sure how it had happened. But somehow the powers that be had left her behind when they too Katherine to her final destination.

Katherine was a victim, she deserved to find peace. She, Kate, was the sinner. She'd murdered as many innocent men as she had monsters. She'd remain, punished for as long as god or someone down below saw fit. Least' that's what she guessed what happened, in those quiet moments she had to muse to herself between her wandering.

To be honest, it suited her just fine. Katherine was ready to move on, and be with Sam. Kate wasn't.

Kate could still the smell the blood of men just like Walker out there, and even worse. And she didn't trust anyone but herself to give them what they deserved.

The lizards warily watched her, slipping off her lap as she stood, picking up her gun, and hissing. They didn't like having an enemy who so boldly walked away without fear, when they should have stayed there forever to fee their young with her blood. Not only that, but they had stolen their eyes.

Instead of the sweet baby blue they were before, Kate's eyes were a slitted shimmering gold, flickering under her wide brimmed hat as she watched the horizon. The rims of her ears were pointed in a way that was almost draconic, like the frills on the lizards necks. And again, the spots, four on each arm, seven traveling down her back.

She traced her tongue over her teeth, they tasted sweet, but had a burning aftertaste. Venom had laced themselves in both those, and her nails, which remained perfectly sharp and never cracked. The burn stained her lips red, and her kiss left an entirely different print now.

She kept her presence quite among the world, letting her legend unfold and the threat of her die down to a simple boogeyman story for young children.

Make sure you behave, make sure you're nice to your fellow man, or Kissing Kate will kiss you goodnight for the last time.

In reality, she wandered the earth, never wasting her time with children. Children had hope, and she felt she owed Katherine the school teacher something to leave them be.

But when they were old enough, men, and sometimes women, would be lured into her trap, like flies to a black widow. The way she saw it, if they were old enough to take love for granted, if they were old enough to sin, they were old enough to die.

She stayed in the heat, her cold blood not able to take the cold. That suited her just fine, it was funny to watch people scratch their heads when they couldn't explain her kills. The newspapers would explain that the victim must have wandered too far, passed out from dehydration, and something poisonous came and bit him.

In reality, it was all her.

She would let them wander, trying to follow the enticing vision they had seen just before out of the corner of their eye, her smile beckoning them to go further, and further, even if they're hearts and minds were begging them to turn back. She was the mirage they saw, the oasis they had begged for, and then, depending on what they had done, she'd have her fun.

She remembered one man she had taken care of. She'd heard the story's, the reports, he'd taken a little girl from her home, tied her up and done all sorts. Then killed her before she could finish crying. That particular one, she'd had all sorts of fun with.

One by one, letting him beg and sob as much as he wanted, she shot off his fingers, then his thumbs. Technically she didn't need the gun anymore, call it nostalgia if you will. Besides, why waste her venom biting things so filthy. She'd save that for later. She started on his toes next, then his kneecaps. She blew a bullet on every joint, waiting until he woke up after he had passed out from pain and blood loss. She'd clot the wounds just enough that he wouldn't bleed out and die before he wanted to, waited for him to stir, only to begin again. By then he was begging for her to lodge one in his skull and just end it.

'_Whatever you say darlin'_

She had lent over to deliver the final blow, her hands reaching around to wrap around his neck, then digging her nails in, the flesh sizzling as she left long trialing welts that drew blood that bubbled from the venom like hot water. The man howled for a minute or two, then finally went quiet.

She gave a quiet smile, leaning over to smooth his matted brown hair from his balding head, and pressed a kiss to it. It hissed like the skin on his neck had, the imprint of her limps turning from red to black within seconds.

She wasn't worried about evidence. The sun from the desert would burn the rest of him to even it out by the time anyone found him. They'd blame the traces of venom in his skin and blood on the wildlife, the missing limbs and blood on gangsters in the area. And she was free to roam, the echoes of her story following after but dismissed more and more as the years went by.

Now here she was, once again at green lake to watch the whole thing end. Stanley Yelnate's curse ended with hers on the Walkers. He and little Hector found her loot, and returned it to the family she had stolen it from.

Now the rain fell like the much awaited pardon Green Lake had been waiting for. Chasing the two boys away in their car as Louise walker sobbed on the bench next to her cohorts.

Kissing Kate chuckled, leaning against the side of the mess hall building, watching. If anyone looked her way, all they'd see, unless she wanted them to see her, was the waves you see that hover in the air on the ground when it's so hot you can't even think straight.

She looked up at the sky. If she knew any better, she'd say this miraculous rain was one final parting gift from Sam and Katherine. One final mercy from those two goody gumdrops.

Then again, maybe Katherine's dark side didn't extend in total into Kate. Maybe a part of it had always been in her. The curse on the walkers hadn't come from Kate after all, it had all been Katherine. At the time, Kate thought she was being merciful, and thought the girl a fool.

Now, with Trout's granddaughter bawling like a baby while the police cuffed her, her entire family having sold themselves to his obsession that had led him and the rest of them into madness, she had to wonder if it was ever really _mercy_ that made Katherine put down the gun.

Things calmed down, and she was left without entertainment once again. She wondered if she'd ever come back here now that things would be so utterly boring.

Only way to find out was to hit the road again.

Kate stepped away from the building, heading in the direction of the holes the boys had worked so hard to dig since the camp began, stretching into the desert like the spots on a yellow back lizard. Like the spots on her. Only these spots would be filled by the time they found a use for old green lake. Hers would be with her forever.

But she was okay with that. She was born to survive, not live in comfort. It's what suited her best.

As she walked, she looked up as the clouds lazily drifted on their way as well, the sun peeking out between the gaps like peepholes.

She pressed a few fingers to her lips, letting them tingle and burn a little before before pointing them towards the clouds and sky, smirking wryly. Let them watch, she wondered if they were bored up there too.

'I can fix that.'

**Yeah, pretty random, and not my style at all. But I don't think its bad. It was worth a try at least. Let me know what you think.**


End file.
